A Pure Gift
by tinylexie
Summary: Lucius Malfoy remembers his history with the Dark Lord after his first encounter with Harry Potter in the book/movie Chamber of Secrets. Companion piece to "Break Him."


_Lucius Malfoy made an involuntary movement; for a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own. – Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapter 1, "The Dark Lord Ascending"_

"_Aren't-aren't you afraid, my Lord, that Potter might at another hand but yours?" asked [Lucius] Malfoy, his voice shaking. "Wouldn't it be…forgive me…more prudent to call of this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y-yourself?" –Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapter 32, "The Elder Wand"_

* * *

**Author's Note****: I believe that the relationship between Lucius and Voldemort is more complex than what we ever got to see in either the books or the movies. Lucius, while clearly afraid of Voldemort, is also brazen in the above excerpts. Lucius expects to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own, and he dares to suggest that Voldemort might be afraid when it comes to Harry Potter's fate. This strange combination of fear and boldness made me wonder: What is the exact nature of Lucius's and Voldemort's relationship? Also, why does Voldemort keep Lucius around this whole time? If Lucius had displeased Voldemort so much, why didn't Voldemort simply torture him for a while and then kill him. Why does Voldemort keep Lucius around to humiliate him and not make any practical use of him? I just can't help but feel there is more between Lucius and Voldemort than what we see on this surface. The below one-shot is my attempt to explain Lucius's and Voldemort's complicated relationship. It details Lucius's thoughts after his encounter with Harry in **_**Chamber of Secrets**_** (the movie version). **

* * *

Harry Potter was such a foolish, simple-minded boy, and Lucius couldn't wrap his head around the idea that it was that same simple boy that had defeated the Dark Lord all those years ago. It just didn't make any sense.

As far as Harry Potter was concerned, the Dark Lord had just been a murderer and nothing more.

But Lucius knew differently. Knew better.

There was so much more to the Dark Lord than what those Muggle and Mudblood lovers saw. So much more.

After leaving Draco to be fussed over by his mother, Lucius went to his study and sat down in the chair in front of the unlit fireplace.

Harry Potter knew nothing about the Dark Lord. Nothing at all.

Lucius closed his eyes as he allowed his mind to drift back to the past, back to a time when _he_ had been a young child.

In many ways, it had been so long ago. In other ways, though, it didn't feel like so long ago.

* * *

Lucius had always been a restless sleeper. It was hard to rest soundly when there had been the ever present fear of his father coming into the room during the middle of the night to punish Lucius for some supposed offense that he had committed. Lucius had learned quickly not to question his father. Lucius had simply accepted the beating and thought nothing of it afterwards.

One night, though, Lucius had felt something. He didn't hear anything. He just felt something. And that something had a sinister feeling to it. The feeling reminded Lucius of his father, but the young boy could feel that it wasn't his father that he was feeling. No, he was feeling another sinister presence.

Lucius had always been too curious for his own good (according to his father), so, of course, he just had to find out the identity of this new sinister presence. It wasn't as if he was getting any sleep anyways.

Lucius crept as quietly as possible down the many hallways and stairwells of Malfoy Manor until he heard his father's voice. His father was clearly talking to someone.

Then, Lucius heard another voice, a new, unfamiliar voice replying to his father.

Lucius continued to creep quietly. Despite his young age, he was already very good at sneaking around and eavesdropping. His father had always taught him that information was power, and Lucius had always taken that piece of advice to heart.

Lucius was now on the stairwell that led to the drawing room where his father was currently talking with the mysterious visitor. The only light that Lucius could see was from the fire that had been lit in the fireplace.

Lucius got down as low as possible so that he could peek through the railings.

Despite the limited light, Lucius could clearly make out his father and his guest.

It took Lucius several moments to determine the exact nature of the guest. Lucius was sure that he was a man because his voice sounded like that of a man.

But the man was snake-like in appearance. He may had once been a man, but it was clear that he was now something much more than just some mere human.

Lucius was both intrigued and frightened as he listened on to the conversation between his father and the snake-like stranger.

"Tell me, Abraxas," the stranger spoke, "how is your son, Lucius? He's six now, isn't he?"

"He just turned six today," Abraxas replied happily.

Lucius frowned to himself. His birthday had never been a happy occasion for him. His mother had died on his birthday. Lucius didn't like to be reminded by his father that he had been born a murderer, which his father always took great pleasure in doing on his birthday.

"And is he a good boy?" the stranger pressed. "Has he been learning his lessons well?"

"Lucius is a _very_ good boy," Abraxas answered. "By the time he is old enough to serve you, I can assure you that he will be nothing but obedient."

Lucius shook with silent anger, but he somehow kept himself from yelling out in outrage. His father had taught him well how to control his emotions.

And now his father was basically treating him as if he was nothing more than just some possession to be sold.

His father was promising him to some stranger without even telling him about it.

And Abraxas Malfoy clearly didn't care what his son thought about any of this.

Lucius would have no choice in the matter. His father would expect him to just accept this servitude without any questions or protests.

"One moment, Abraxas," the stranger suddenly spoke, interrupting Lucius's thoughts. "I suddenly feel like we are no longer alone."

The stranger looked directly in Lucius's direction, and it felt as if the snake-like man was looking straight into Lucius's eyes.

It was dark where Lucius was hiding, but it felt like the snake-like man could see him.

But Lucius didn't run. He would definitely be heard then. Besides, neither his father nor the stranger had yet made a move in his direction.

Instead of running, Lucius crept as quietly away as he could, but his heart was pounding and he was having problems with breathing.

Yet Lucius didn't collapse. He somehow managed to keep on going. And as soon as he felt like he was far enough away, he ran as fast as he could.

To his bedroom.

A stupid place to hide, Lucius knew. But if his father was going to punish him for eavesdropping, there was no need to make him any angrier by hiding.

Trembling, Lucius laid down on his bed and covered himself with his blankets.

Lucius wanted to hide under his blankets. Another stupid place to hide.

But Lucius kept his face uncovered.

For what felt like the longest time, the only sound that Lucius could hear was his own breathing.

Lucius closed his eyes and concentrated on controlling his breathing until it was finally back to normal.

Then, there was silence.

It was silent for so long that Lucius had allowed himself to become relaxed. He was even about to finally fall asleep when his bedroom door suddenly banged open.

Two figures entered Lucius's bedroom.

One was his father.

The other was the snake-like stranger.

Lucius tried to make himself appear as small as possible, but he knew that he was beyond hiding.

Lucius met his father's eyes before looking over at the stranger. Lucius met his eyes for a moment as well before some force caused the young boy to look away.

"You must be Lucius," the stranger spoke calmly. Too calmly for Lucius's liking. His father was always the most brutal when he spoke calmly, and Lucius had a feeling that this stranger was no different.

"Sit up straight, Lucius," Abraxas snapped.

Lucius, who had slowly been sliding down, quickly sat up on his bed. He looked at his father and the stranger but not directly at their eyes.

More silence followed.

Lucius hated silence. He wished that his father and the stranger would just get the beating over with already. He had always found the waiting to be worse than the actual beating.

"Come over here, Lucius," the stranger suddenly spoke, his voice almost gentle.

Shaking, Lucius slid out his bed and walked over to the stranger.

The snake-like man placed a cold hand under Lucius's chin and forced the boy to look him in the eyes.

"Eavesdropping is a Slytherin trait," the man spoke, his voice both calm and cold at the same time, "but there are _some_ whom you should never eavesdrop on. You should be proud of your Pureblood heritage, but it would be unwise for you to forget your place. Even one whose blood is as pure as yours has _betters_. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Lucius answered quickly in a voice that he was glad was only halfway shaky.

The man removed his hand from Lucius's chin. "Do you know who I am, Lucius?"

"No, sir."

"Not even a guess?" The man's voice was still calm, but Lucius could feel the threat of danger.

Lucius looked over at his father. Never before had Abraxas Malfoy been a source of comfort for Lucius, but at this moment even his father was less threatening than this stranger.

"You are _embarrassing _me, Lucius," Abraxas snarled. "For once in your life, you idiotic boy, use your brain. There are not many whom are _worthy_ to speak with me."

Lucius looked over at the stranger all of a sudden everything was clear. Lucius silently chided himself. He should have figured it out long before now.

His father was always talking about the Dark Lord and praising him. Abraxas was always telling Lucius how the Dark Lord would be the one to lead them into a better age, an age in which Purebloods would once again rule the Wizarding Society, an age in which only Purebloods would be allowed to be practice magic, an age which would not tolerate any Mudbloods.

But Lucius had never thought that his father would have a personal relationship with the Dark Lord. But it was clear to the young boy that his father and the Dark Lord were comfortable in each other's presence. There was no master and servant. There was a sense of respect between the two.

"You are the Dark Lord," Lucius breathed in both reverence and fear, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"And what does that mean to you, Lucius?" the Dark Lord asked.

"It means that you are the one who will make being a Pureblood mean something again. It means that you are our leader, our savior."

"And such a leader and savior needs servants, does he not, Lucius? Others who believe in his cause? Others who will fight for what is right?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And are you a _proper_ Pureblood, Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And what does this all mean, Lucius?"

Lucius hesitated for a moment. A part of him was screaming that none of this was fair.

But another part of him was screaming that this was his duty. He was, after all, a proper Pureblood. It was his duty to uphold and maintain blood purity.

"It means that I belong to you, my Lord," Lucius gulped.

The Dark Lord smiled. Lucius felt chills running down his spine.

"Good boy, Lucius," the Dark Lord breathed. Then, to Lucius's horror, the Dark Lord patted him on the head as one would a pet.

Lucius wanted to say something, but he knew better. So, he just stood there and allowed himself to be degraded, to be degraded for the sake of blood purity, for the sake of duty.

"Your father is no longer young," the Dark Lord continued, "but he is a proper Pureblood and he wants blood purity in the Wizarding Society just as much as I do. So you are his gift to me. You are my little _pure_ gift. You should be honoured, Lucius. Not many have the chance to be in your position."

"I am honoured, my Lord," Lucius replied quickly. "Thank you, my Lord."

"I shall see you again soon, Lucius," the Dark Lord said. He turned to leave. But then he stopped and looked straight into Lucius's eyes.

"And I trust that you will never again forget your place, my little pure gift."

"Never again, my Lord."

"You really do have a good boy, Abraxas."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Lucius looked over at his father. For the first time in Lucius's life, Abraxas Malfoy was actually smiling proudly.

Lucius felt something catch in his throat. He had always wanted to make his father proud. And now he had finally done so.

And all it had taken to please Abraxas Malfoy was for Lucius to promise his very soul to the greatest wizard of all time.

* * *

Back in the present, Lucius allowed himself a slight smirk. It had taken some time, but he had eventually mustered the courage to once again eavesdrop on his father and the Dark Lord. He had been older and wiser. He had been quieter and more subtle. He had learned his lessons well.

And Lucius had felt so privileged and so honored. He had learned so much. Knowledge was indeed power.

* * *

Lucius allowed himself to drift into another memory. He had been eight when the Dark Lord had taken him on his first Muggle raid.

Lucius was both excited and frightened when the Dark Lord told him that he would be coming that night. To personally be with the Dark Lord was indeed a high honour.

"Don't you _dare_ embarrass me, Lucius," his father warned him.

"I won't, Father," Lucius promised. "I live only to please and serve you and the Dark Lord."

Abraxas Malfoy smiled at that statement. Lucius once again felt something catch in his throat.

The Dark Lord took Lucius's hand and they Apparated away from Malfoy Manor and right into the middle of a Muggle town that at that moment resembled what could only be called a war-zone.

The Muggles were running and screaming in pure terror. Men. Women. Children.

It was clear that the source of the Muggles' fear was the presence of the masked and hooded people sending spells at them. Many of those spells involved a green light.

Death Eaters. Servants of the Dark Lord. Lucius suddenly felt something he couldn't explain. _He _would one day be a Death Eater. _He_ would one day be doing the same things that these Death Eaters were doing.

Several Muggles fell dead right in front of Lucius and the Dark Lord. Lucius knew he shouldn't feel disgusted and horrified. After all, they were only filthy Muggles. But a part of Lucius was screaming that this was wrong.

But one day Lucius would be the one killing Muggles.

Lucius shook his head, trying to shake out the traitorous thoughts.

The Dark Lord still held Lucius's hand, his grip like iron.

Without any pause or hesitation, the Dark Lord stepped over the bodies of the dead Muggles, dragging Lucius along with him.

The Dark Lord looked around. He smiled when he caught sight of a Muggle family huddling beside a destroyed house that was smoldering. It had been set on fire some time ago. The Death Eaters had clearly been here for a while.

The Dark Lord dragged Lucius towards the terrified Muggle family. The family consisted of a father, a mother, and a son who looked to be Lucius's age.

Lucius felt something catch in his throat. All the family had blond hair. Including the boy about Lucius's age.

Lucius had blond hair. Lucius was about the same age as the Muggle boy. The Muggle boy with blond hair.

The Muggle family looked fearfully at the Dark Lord, but they didn't seem able to run.

"Look at these pieces of filth, Lucius," the Dark Lord breathed, his voice both calm and dangerous. "They dare to look at us as if they were our _equals_."

Lucius didn't think the Muggle family was looking at them in such a way, but he didn't dare contradict the Dark Lord. Besides, Abraxas had always taught Lucius that it wrong for Muggles to look at Pureblood wizards in any way.

"They need to be taught a lesson, Lucius."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius replied automatically as was expected of him. "Of course, my Lord."

"_You_ will be the one to teach them the lesson, Lucius."

"My Lord?" Lucius could barely keep the panic out of his voice.

The Dark Lord smiled at Lucius. "Are you not a proper Pureblood, Lucius? Do you not believe in blood purity? Do you not believe that Muggles have no place in our world?"

"But I don't have a wand on me, my Lord," Lucius spoke quickly without thinking.

The Dark Lord looked at Lucius for several moments, an expression of anger and disbelief on his face.

Lucius wanted to say that it wasn't his fault that he didn't have a wand on him. How was he supposed to have known that the Dark Lord was going to be taking him on a raid? Lucius had thought that they were just going to go for a walk or something like that.

Lucius, however, knew that it would not be wise to question the Dark Lord like that, so he kept silent as he looked down at the ground below him.

"But surely you've held a wand before, Lucius," the Dark Lord finally spoke.

"Of course, my Lord. I am a Pureblood. I just don't have a wand on me at the moment."

"Take mine then," the Dark Lord breathed, drawing his wand and handing it to Lucius.

For several moments, all Lucius could do was stare at the wand in his hand.

The Dark Lord's wand.

He was holding the Dark Lord's wand.

Surely this was the highest of honours.

"What are you waiting for, Lucius?" the Dark Lord hissed. "I know your father has taught you the Unforgivable Curses. Begin with the Cruciatus Curse."

Lucius hesitated. His father had often talked to him about torturing Muggles.

But doing the actual torturing was completely different from just talking about it.

And Lucius knew just how much the Cruciatus Curse hurt from personal experience. His father used it on him often.

"Would you like for me to remind you how to perform the Cruciatus Curse, Lucius?" the Dark Lord snarled. "Either you do it to them, or I'll do it to _you_. Your choice."

Lucius looked at the Muggle family, his eyes apologetic even though he knew he shouldn't be sorry about torturing some filthy Muggles.

A part of him still hesitated, though.

Then, the Muggle mother looked at him. There was still fear in her eyes. But now there was something else.

Sympathy.

Sympathy for Lucius.

"Sympathy is a sign of weakness, Lucius," his father had once told him, "and Purebloods are _never _weak."

Despite his father's words, a part of Lucius had always yearned for someone to show him a little bit of sympathy.

And the first person to ever show him any sympathy in his life was a Muggle, a filthy Muggle.

"_Crucio_," Lucius said weakly, pointing his wand at the Muggle woman who dared to show him, a Pureblood, sympathy. At the same time, though, Lucius found it hard to be truly angry at someone who was showing him some compassion.

The woman cried out slightly in pain, but Lucius knew that his spell had been weak. He knew that it wouldn't be good enough for the Dark Lord.

"Surely you can do better, Lucius," the Dark Lord said both mockingly and angrily. He made to reach for his wand.

"Give me another chance, my Lord," Lucius cried out pleadingly. "I can do better. I _will _do better."

Lucius looked at the Muggle woman with more force. He didn't really want to hurt this woman.

But he didn't want to be hurt either.

It was either him or the Muggle.

He was a Pureblood. He was better than this filthy Muggle.

"I'm sorry," he breathed softly to the Muggle woman, so softly that the Dark Lord couldn't hear him, even though the Dark Lord was standing right behind him.

The Muggle woman gave Lucius a slight nod.

Lucius gritted his teeth. This Muggle was actually giving him _permission_ to torture her. If Lucius had not been so terrified, he would have busted out laughing.

"_Crucio!"_ Lucius screamed. _"Crucio! Crucio!"_

Lucius pointed his wand at the whole Muggle family, not just at the Muggle woman. He didn't want to think about her any more. He wanted to just forget about her.

The screams of the Muggle family filled the air.

"Do you not feel it, Lucius?" the Dark Lord laughed over the screams. "The _power_ you have over these Muggles! The _control_ you have over these Muggles! You are your father, and they are you! They are nothing, and you are everything! Tell me, Lucius, how does it feel to be the one delivering the punishment for once? Tell me!"

"It feels good, my Lord," Lucius admitted, a twisted smile on his young face as he continued to torture the Muggle family. A part of him also felt disgusted, but he didn't dare tell the Dark Lord this. Besides, it really did feel good to be the one giving out the punishment for once.

"Now finish them, Lucius," the Dark Lord ordered in a cold voice.

Lucius suddenly didn't feel so good any more. He really didn't want to kill the Muggles, especially the Muggle woman. She seemed nice, for a Muggle.

Lucius just stood there, the Dark Lord's wand hanging limply from his hand.

The Dark Lord snarled and snatched his wand from Lucius's hand. Lucius was too numb to try to stop him.

The Muggle woman's eyes once again met Lucius's. Despite the clear pain that she was in, she was still looking at Lucius with sympathy.

What was wrong with this woman? He had just tortured _her_. And she was still looking at him with _sympathy_? Filthy Muggle.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ the Dark Lord screamed, pointing his wand at the Muggle family. _"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"_

The three Muggles fell down to the ground, all three of them dead, all three of their eyes lifeless.

And Lucius didn't know what to think.

He was supposed to be happy that the filthy Muggles were dead.

But he wasn't happy.

The Dark Lord turned his attention to Lucius. "You disappointed me greatly, Lucius," he said softly, almost gently. "And your _father_ will be so disappointed by you as well. Clearly you still have much to learn, my little pure gift."

The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Lucius. _"Crucio! Crucio!" _

Lucius did not know when he finally regained consciousness, but when he did, he found himself chained to the wall in one of the dungeons under Malfoy Manor.

It was completely dark in the cell except for the little bit of light that was coming from Abraxas Malfoy's wand. Lucius felt his breath catch in his throat.

Abraxas took a step towards his young son. Lucius tried to back away, but the cell was small and his chains did not allow for much movement.

Lucius gulped as he looked up at his father's face.

Abraxas Malfoy looked calmly murderous. How he was able to look like that was beyond Lucius, but his father had always been good with making that particular face.

Lucius shivered. It was always cold down in these dungeons.

"You _embarrassed_ me, Lucius," Abraxas breathed softly. "Apparently, I am raising a Muggle _sympathizer_, a Blood Traitor."

"No, Father, that's not true, I swear," Lucius pleaded. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"Your words are _empty_, Lucius," Abraxas replied. "Apparently, I have not taught you well enough." With that, Abraxas took another step towards his son. He raised his wand.

"Please, Father, don't," Lucius begged, unable to hide his fear. "Please, I can't take any more pain."

Abraxas chuckled cruelly. "Oh, don't you worry about that, Lucius. You've been unconscious for several days from the Dark Lord's extended use of the Cruciatus Curse on you. I don't want your mind any more damaged. If you weren't my only living heir, I wouldn't care. But since you're all I got, even as _pathetic_ as you are, I'm not going to hurt you this time. Oh, no, Lucius, I'm just going to leave you down here for a few days, without food and water. Perhaps hunger and thirst will teach you to do better next time. I won't be spoiling you any more until you learn how to act like a proper Pureblood and not like some filthy Blood Traitor."

Abraxas then left Lucius alone in the cold darkness.

Lucius had been left with his hunger and his thirst.

Lucius had been left with the coldness.

Lucius had been left with the darkness.

Lucius had been left with anger towards himself for his weakness.

And Lucius had been left with anger towards that filthy Muggle woman for showing _him_, a Pureblood, sympathy.

Sympathy really was a sign of weakness. Sympathy really did make someone weak. Sympathy had no place in a Pureblood's world. Sympathy had no room in Lucius's world.

Sympathy only caused Lucius pain in the end.

The Muggle woman's sympathy was the reason why Lucius was currently chained in the dungeons.

All because that Muggle woman's sympathy had made Lucius too weak to do his duty and to be a proper Pureblood.

* * *

Back in the present, Lucius opened his eyes. It had taken some time, but he had finally learned his lessons well. Very well.

Lucius thought again of Harry Potter. That foolish boy really knew nothing.

Despite being an orphan because of the Dark Lord, that foolish boy was so _innocent_.

Harry Potter was really quite fortunate. Lucius had never had the chance to be innocent.

But Harry Potter would never understand any of this.

Lucius shifted in his seat. He was starting to sound as if he was jealous of that idiotic boy, when he was not.

True, it had been unpleasant whenever Lucius had failed the Dark Lord.

But whenever Lucius had something to please the Dark Lord, the rewards that had followed had almost been enough to make up for all the pain he had suffered for his failures. Almost.

Lucius shifted in his seat again. Now he thought of Arthur Weasley and the Dark Lord's diary.

Lucius had always been a curious person, despite all the pain his curiosity had cost him on several occasions. Knowledge, after all, was power. So naturally, Lucius just had to know more about the supposedly empty diary that the Dark Lord had entrusted to his care.

Lucius had learned enough about the diary to realize that it was tied to the Chamber of Secrets.

The Dark Lord had commanded Lucius through the diary to ensure that the diary ended up at Hogwarts.

Lucius rolled up the left sleeve of his expensive robe. The Dark Mark was faded but still there. It had never truly disappeared. It was, therefore, possible that the Dark Lord was not truly dead.

It was unwise to displease the Dark Lord. It was unwise not to follow the Dark Lord's orders.

But Lucius was a father, and while he was not always kind to Draco, he always liked to think he cared a lot more about Draco than his father had ever cared about him.

Lucius had never used any Unforgivables on Draco. Lucius had never chained Draco down in the dungeons. Draco had not ever known that Malfoy Manor had dungeons until he was nine, and he had only learned about the dungeons by accident. Apparently, Draco had inherited his father's dangerous sense of curiosity.

Lucius shifted in his seat again. He would not disobey the Dark Lord, but he wouldn't put his son at risk either. Draco was hardly the only person who could bring the Dark Lord's diary to Hogwarts.

Enter Arthur Weasley, the Muggle-loving fool, the Blood Traitor.

Enter Arthur Weasley's silly little daughter.

Once again Lucius shifted in his seat. He had never cared for hurting children, even before he had become a father.

He knew what it felt like to lose a child.

But sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the better good.

Lucius knew that the last time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, one of the Mudblood children had died. Lucius wondered if one of the Mudblood children would die this time around as well.

Lucius tried to convince himself that he didn't care. Better a filthy Mudblood child than his beloved Draco.

Besides, it wouldn't really be Lucius who would be hurting the filthy Mudblood children. It would be Arthur Weasley's daughter who would be doing all the harm.

Lucius wondered if anything would happen to Arthur Weasley's daughter. Lucius wondered why he even cared enough to wonder about such a thing.

Better one of foolish Arthur Weasley's foolish children than his beloved Draco.

Arthur Weasley was a disgrace to the Purebloods. He needed to be taught a lesson.

Of course, Lucius would rather have something horrible happen directly to Arthur Weasley than to one of his children, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

So what if a couple of children got hurt. Those children would be nothing more than Mudbloods and Blood Traitors.

Those children would not be Draco.

Lucius looked down once again at his faded Dark Mark. The Dark Lord would surely return one day, and Lucius wanted to ensure that the Dark Lord was nothing but pleased with him when that happened.

As much of an honour it was to serve the Dark Lord, Lucius didn't want Draco to be the next little pure gift. Draco believed in blood purity as strongly as his parents, but he had not been raised as Lucius has been. Draco had not been raised to be a true Death Eater. A Death Eater supporter perhaps but not an actual Death Eater. Draco tried hard to act like his father, but he had his mother's heart.

Lucius wondered what his mother had been liked. Had she been liked Narcissa? Would she have loved him like Narcissa loved Draco?

Such silly, sentimental thoughts. There were much more important matters to concentrate on than a dead mother that Lucius had never gotten the chance to know.

Like pleasing the Dark Lord so that Draco would be kept safe.

And Arthur Weasley's daughter would be the key to Draco's safety. How ironic. How cruelly ironic.

But then again, better a Blood Traitor's daughter than Draco. Any child was better than Draco.

And Lucius would _never_ feel guilty about anything that may or may not happened as a result of giving Arthur Weasley's daughter the Dark Lord's diary. Lucius _refused_ to feel guilty for any harm that may or may not come to any filth that was beneath him and his family.


End file.
